


Interruption

by hatonic_soulmates



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 10:58:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3206687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatonic_soulmates/pseuds/hatonic_soulmates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragon Age Yogs!</p><p>A quiet night at the Hatters Guild HQ is interrupted by an unwanted guest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interruption

“So, is Nano your real name? It’s not, right?”

 

They had pushed the large wooden table and chairs in front of the fire and were all huddled around one side, closest to the warmth. Winter nights in Denerim tended to be bone-chillingly cold, and the Hatters HQ building was drafty as hell. The flames danced and crackled, bathing the trio in a flickering orange glow; the shadows gave Nano a sinister aura as she snorted and glanced up at Smith from the bow she was re-stringing.

 

“Seeing as I hate my given name and will never, ever tell you what it is….yes. Nano is my real name.”

 

Smith laughed brightly and took a long drink from the tankard of ale in front of him before returning to casually mixing his alchemical flasks. Ross sighed, magic prickling at his fingertips in case Smith made a mistake and lit them all on fire. Why he insisted on doing this while he was drinking, Ross didn’t know, but he was sure it would kill them all one day. There was some soft thumping on the stairs above their heads as Sips and Trott made their way down, loudly arguing about some job they’d just gotten. The trio shared an amused look, Smith flashing Nano and Ross one of his signature crooked grins before taking another long drag from his tankard.

 

“Fair enough, I won’t pester you. I will say, however, that if we’re going to be living and working together, we should establish a certain level of trust.”

 

Nano rolled her eyes and went back to working on her bow.

 

“Smiffy, if I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t be sitting at the same table while you did that nonsense,” she nodded at the now slightly smoking flasks on the table.

 

A great sudden _crash_ and a loud blasphemous swear coming from the foyer nearly made them jump out of their skin.

 

“That sounded like one of Lalna’s traps,” cried Nano as they scrambled to their feet, grabbing weapons and flasks, Ross drawing forth a spell and letting the magical energy swirl about his hands. They met Sips and Trott in the hallway, daggers in hand, and Lalna coming out of his workshop loading a bolt into his crossbow.

 

The sight that greeted them in the foyer was not unsurprising: a templar, trapped in a large iron cage just big enough for him to stand, slightly slumped over. He glared at the group from his prison, his face turning evil and ugly when his gaze fell on Ross. Ross could feel him drawing up energy, trying to call on the lyrium in his blood to silence him, but he guessed the shock of the trap had caused him to fumble whatever he’d had prepared.

 

“Apostate! You will stand down and turn yourself over to the Chantry! You are a danger to the people of this city and belong in the Circle!”

 

The gathered mercenaries laughed and started to lower their weapons. Lalna’s crossbow clicked loudly as he unloaded the bolt and Ross calmed the spell he’d had at the ready and slowly approached the cage. The templar’s sneer deepened as Ross got closer. Ross just smiled softly.

 

“Look, friend, you’re severely outnumbered here. We don’t want to hurt you, we just want you to leave quietly and-”

 

He felt it more than he saw the templar do it, but as he reached up to wipe the saliva from his eyelid the air in the room changed. It crackled around him with harsh, angry energy, the heat coming off him in waves as he wrapped his hands around two bars of the cage. The iron began to heat, turning red hot, almost enough to bend and fold. The templar’s expression had gone from cold hatred to absolute terror, and he wimpered as he tried to gather the skirts of his uniform away from the almost molten bars, sweat beading on his brow.

 

It was Ross’ turn to sneer. He felt his friends around him tense up once again, raising their weapons in case things got ugly, in case the templar gathered enough strength to dispel Ross’ magic and render him helpless.

 

Ross wasn’t about to let that happen.

 

“Let me explain something to you, you enormous pile of Chantry _shit_ ,” Ross growled, and the templar flinched, desperately trying not to get burned while he moved as far away from Ross as he possibly could, “you’ve picked a fight with the wrong people. Now, you’ve got two options: fall to your knees and beg for my forgiveness, swear you’ll never come near me or my friends again, and I’ll let you go. Or, you continue to defy me, and my friend Smith and I will roast you alive inside that pretty armor of yours and feed you to Lalna’s pet deepstalker. Did I mention Smith likes to set himself on fire?”

 

Smith smirked and held up one of his fire flasks, shaking it slightly, a wild gleam in his eye. The templar sank to the floor, the metal kneeguards on his armor thunking loudly on the wood, and held his hands in front of him, palms together as if in prayer. Tears streamed down his cheeks, making his face red and splotchy.

 

“By the Maker, please! I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll never bother you again! Just please spare me!”

 

The cage rattled slightly as Ross pushed away from it. Lalna pulled a lever on the wall by the door and the cage raised slowly, letting the weeping templar run free as soon as there was enough space. Nano chased him out the door, shouting gleefully and firing arrows at his feet as he ran frantically back into the city proper. Smith and Trott rushed to Ross, wrapping him in their arms, Smith pressing a soft kiss into his hair. Ross sagged into their embrace, feeling exhaustion creep in.

“We really need to find that phylactery of yours, mate,” sighed Trott, stroking Ross’ hair off his forehead, ”this is getting ridiculous.”

  
“C’mon, let’s go to bed,” Smith led them upstairs while their friends returned to the dining room to drink, Lalna’s Orlesian tavern songs and Nano’s lyrical laughter chasing after them.


End file.
